Rushing Water Travels Slow
by Nemesis dan Impyrean
Summary: He wakes to the roar of a waterfall and the quiet rippling of a lake. With no memories and no idea of what is going on, he struggles to find what he has lost. Is a person without recollection of humanity capable of it? Meanwhile, his old friends rally together in hopes of piecing together the mystery of what happened to him - of what has happened to the Rider called Eragon.
1. Lake

**Hey! So, before I start posting chapters (I've had this thing forever - I really need to work on my time management) I want to warn you that I will probably not update in a while... if at all. I keep wanting to finish it before I get this out there, but I wrote all of this a pretty long time ago. My writing style has changed quite a bit...**

 **But I'm still fairly proud of this story. Seriously, it was going good until my inspiration faded. So, despite the sticks and stones anyone reading this may throw, I figured I may as well upload it.**

 **I would rewrite it...**

 **But...**

 **There's so much of it already written, it'd take forever! So please forgive me if you read it and find you actually like it. Maybe someone would be willing to continue on for me... but like that'll happen. I always mean to pick up some abandoned stories I meant to start on but never find the time or inspiration for it.**

 **At any rate, thanks for reading this whole long and probably boring author's note! Enjoy!**

* * *

It was cold, and it was wet, and it was loud. I opened my eyes, my cheek pressed upon a shore of smooth pebbles. The rest of my body lay in the shallows, the water almost covering me completely. With difficulty I got my hands under me, pushing off the ground to sit up. I glanced behind me, where a waterfall roared. That must be where the source of the sound had been.

Slowly I began to register pain in my body - numerous aches and bruises… but nothing felt broken. It still hurt though, so I remained still for a while, taking in the rest of my surroundings. Where the waterfall was, there was also a cliff - and high above that cliff seemed to be trees and bushes. The pond was deep. If I swam to the middle, I could sink three times my height.

Finally I stood. My body grew sore, pain flashing for a brief moment, but it faded to dull aches once more. I made my way to the center of the pond, drifting on the surface. Cold as it was it eased a bit of the pain. In fact, though I could tell the water was cold…

It didn't bother me at all. Grateful for this, I stayed in the water a bit longer. Then finally I eased out of it, standing and wringing out what I could of my clothes - a plain outfit that was nevertheless comfortable. Although it was rather worn and torn, as if I had traveled in it for a long time. I held out my hands, inspecting them. Even my body seemed unfamiliar.

Then something registered above the roar of the waterfall - a groan. It was actually loud, but couldn't compete with the waterfall's sound until just then. I hesitated, then drew my sword. It was only then I realized I had one. The reaction had been purely instinctual. But I resolved to worry about that later, listening hard for the sound of that whimper. However, the sword seemed to weigh no more than a switch. As I carried it, I wondered whether it would be any protection.

When I heard it again, I walked towards it. It came from the trees on the other side of the pond - more of a lake, really - so it took me a while to maneuver around the body of water and then make it through the trees. When I broke through, I gasped. "A dragon?" I said wonderingly. A great blue eye opened slowly, the scales shimmering as the massive body shifted.

Even though something in me was frightened, at the same time, I wasn't scared at all. I sheathed my sword, which glittered a blue exactly like this dragon, and stepped closer, running my hand gently across the jaw. "What happened to you?" I asked softly, caressing the leathery skin. The dragon stared intently at me, as if trying to communicate, then groaned again.

It shifted briefly, one great wing rising. It was beautiful - like a piece of the sky - but torn and bleeding. My eyes wide with horror, I dropped my sword and hurried around the dragon, tentatively placing my hand on the wing. The dragon twisted it's head, trying to look at me, but gave up. I stroked the wing, grief roiling in me at the tragedy, when something in my mind shattered.

Suddenly it felt empty in my head. Instinctively I reached out with my mind, tugging at the energy that made itself known to me. The torn flesh and membrane of the wing mended in seconds, a rush of energy leaving me drained. "All better," I murmured to the dragon. It stood shakily, staring down at me. "Go," I urged it. But the dragon crouched next to me.

Slowly I backed away, and it followed. I ran my hand through my hair. "What do you want?" I asked tiredly. It made a soft growling noise at me before lowering itself, still staring at me. I looked at it incredulously. I knew it understood when I asked, "Do you want me to ride you?" The dragon nodded. It was interesting to see such a large head move in that way.

"No," I replied, shaking my head. I turned and ran. As expected, the ground shook as the dragon leapt after me. Instinctively I pushed back with my mind, a loud growl a result. I didn't risk looking back - only running as fast as I could from the thing.

* * *

"Where are they?" he said, baffled. The island was empty no matter where they looked, and all the Eldunarí were shattered. The eggs were also nowhere to be found. _What could kidnap a Dragon Rider?_ Thorn pointed out. Murtagh nodded his head.

Absentmindedly he lay his hand on the hilt of Zar'roc as he looked around again. "First visit in a while," he sighed, "and already there's trouble. Perhaps we should tell Nasuada." Thorn inclined his head, allowing Murtagh to swing himself into the saddle. As the red dragon stood, he commented, _Maybe we should exercise caution._ His Rider laughed grimly at that.

"Indeed we should," he agreed. "After all, really, what could destroy all these Eldunarí with a Dragon Rider defending them, and live to tell the tale?"


	2. Inhale

She sighed, slumping in her chair. "Milady," her handmaiden said with amusement, "that was the last of them." Nasuada chuckled tiredly. "Thank you, Farica," she said. The woman bowed before exiting, leaving her alone. _Not alone,_ she thought, reaching up her sleeve. The cold blade comforted her, although in reality dangers lying out of it's reach were more common.

Suddenly an alien presence brushed against her mind. No… it wasn't alien. She recognized it, and hurried onto the balcony, heedless of danger. "Saphira!" she said with surprise. The dragon huffed, balanced precariously on her thankfully very sturdy balcony. _Nasuada,_ she heard. "But I… Why are you here?" the woman said, still shocked. Only a mere seven months ago Eragon had left.

The dragon bowed her head. _It was not to be,_ came the words, along with a vast feeling of sorrow that nearly had Nasuada in tears. "Where's Eragon?" she asked tentatively. "What happened? Why did you need to return?" The dragon turned her head to gaze at Nasuada. Her next words were full of grief. _Eragon is… gone._ Nasuada's eyes widened.

 _Gone?_ she questioned. She reverted to mental conversation, for fear of who might be watching, listening. Saphira bowed her head. Nasuada's eyes widened. _But why - how?_ she asked, her mind reeling. She had never heard of such a thing happening to a Rider.

Saphira bared her teeth, her gaze boring into Nasuada's. _I cannot say. I must speak to Arya - but remember, though you are a huntress, others yet hunt you._ The dragon launched herself into the sky, leaving Nasuada to stare after Saphira. Then she gathered herself.

"Farica! Jörmundur!" she called.

* * *

I gasped, leaning down to rest my hands on my knees. The dragon had given up, flying off into the distance. I hadn't relaxed until I could no longer see or sense it. "What was that?" I wondered aloud. I stood too quickly and winced. The run had torn some wounds I hadn't been aware of until then, stinging fiercely. Slowly I exhaled, concentrating, trying to heal myself.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt wary of this power - but if I was injured, I could not run or fight well. So I breathed, letting energy knit my skin, bolster my bruises. It left me exhausted, but the relief was sweet as I stood once more, trying to get my bearings. The sky was latticed with branches and leaves, but enough was visible that I could see clouds.

" _What_ are you doing _here?_ I looked all over for you, you know! What happened to the Eldunarí? And the dragon eggs are missing!" I turned to see a boy - a man - a person stepping out of the brush. Another dragon followed him, this one covered in red scales. He scowled at me. "Eragon? Hello?" I smiled helplessly. "I'm sorry," I apologized, holding my hands to him, palms up.

I intended to apologize because I didn't know who he was or what he was talking about, but his gaze locked on my hands. He grabbed my right hand roughly, pulling it to him. "What happened to you?" he demanded. I noticed a silvery mark on his left hand.

Slowly I pulled away, tilting my head. Dropping my smile, I repeated, "I'm sorry… What are you talking about?" He stared at me now. "Eragon," he said firmly, "what do you mean?" I didn't reply, my mind whirling in circles. Eragon. He kept calling me Eragon. Was that my name? I wanted to ask him, but couldn't, still unsure of who the person was. "Nothing," I lied.

His eyes hardened, proving he knew I was lying, but I backed away anyway. Then the person glanced at his dragon, his expression growing bewildered. His eyes returned to me, now worried as he asked, "Eragon. Do you know who I am? Who this is?" Assuming he was referring to himself and the dragon, I shook my head. "I'm sorry," I apologized again.

"Stop apologising," he reprimanded me. "Where's Saphira?" The name didn't ring a bell, although for some reason I thought of the blue dragon I had run from. In response, I remained silent. The person sighed. His worry was now replaced by frustration and fear, the fluctuations of emotion shifting. It was like an ocean - rising and falling with every ripple.

"I'm Murtagh," he introduced himself to me. "And this is Thorn." He gestured to the red dragon behind him. I nodded, and he exhaled. "Okay," he said softly to himself. Then he spoke to me. "Will you come with me?" Slowly I shook my head. His posture went rigid. His mouth formed sounds, but they echoed in my head, making it hurt. Wincing, I stepped back.

Even when he stopped speaking, the noise didn't. With every echo they grew louder until it felt as if my mind would burst. I felt that shattering sensation as I screamed from the pain. Energy left me in a flash, exhausting me to the point where my knees buckled. Slowly the agony faded, leaving me on my hands and knees in the dirt. Slowly, I lifted my head, looking up.

It was as if there had been an explosion - maybe there had been. Trees leaned away from me, roots torn out of the ground. Black scorch marks streaked away from my feet, coating everything in my vision. My breathing was ragged in the sudden silence.

I looked towards Murtagh and Thorn. To my surprise, the dragon had flown high in the air while Murtagh remained on the ground. The scorch marks curved evenly around him as he stood, untouched in the carnage. But his eyes were horrified.

Without a word, the dragon swooped down, taking the boy away.


	3. River

That horrible clearing of devastation I had unwittingly created, I left it behind. I needed to see - something. The trees were so densely packed that I couldn't find my position. So I ran further until the trees became more scarce. Through the branches, mountains were visible. A whole range of them that stretched from one end of the horizon to the other, rising into the sky.

I walked without tiring, without feeling hunger or thirst. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered about this, but accepted it easily. The sun had risen and nearly set when I spied smoke through the trees. Curious, I hurried forward, breaking through the trees to see buildings. I didn't register the buildings very much though, for a man sat with his back to the forest far from those buildings, only a few feet away from me. He looked… familiar… more than anything has so far.

My footsteps had been silent, but now I took a step forward, snapping a twig.

* * *

Roran sat lazily, enjoying the view of the newly built Carvahall. He had been working all day, and figured he would take a short rest before returning to Katrina and Isma. A twig snapped behind him suddenly, causing the warrior to turn quickly. A person stood in the gloom of the trees - too dark for Roran to make out. "Come closer," the man said warily.

The figure moved forward, Roran's expression turning to one of startled joy. "Brother!" he shouted merrily. Closing the gap between them, he grabbed Eragon in a bear hug. He held on for a while until he noticed his brother was still, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Concerned, Roran held the Rider an arm's length away. He noticed Eragon's expression was blank.

Then it transformed into an expression of longing. One arm rose, fingers trailing down the side of Roran's face. Startled, the man held still. "Ro… ran…" Eragon murmured. His eyes seemed slightly unfocused, prompting Roran to hold the guy a little further away than before. Deciding now would be a good time to interrupt whatever had gotten into his brother, Roran said cautiously, "Brother?" Eragon looked up at him, their gazes meeting. His arm dropped as his eyes cleared.

"Ah… I… Are you Roran?" the Rider said, his voice tinged with desperation. Roran stared hard at Eragon. Finally he replied, "Yes," his tone unreadable. Eragon grinned. "So I got something right," he said, sighing. His expression was wrong, somehow, to his brother, who tried to figure out what was off. It was as if he was gone - even though he was standing before him.

"What do you know of me?" Roran asked, his tone light and friendly. His brother had obviously lost his memory. Although he wasn't sure exactly how a Rider's mind worked, he knew it didn't happen naturally. He also knew Eragon wouldn't be so careless as to _let_ someone take his memories. So he tried to tread carefully, in order to figure out what had happened.

* * *

My mind was reeling. _Roran, it's Roran,_ some part of me was celebrating, but that part of me… I did not understand. The man before me, his eyes were worried, his face familiar. In a world of strangeness, he was someone I knew, if barely. I felt drunk on recognition.

* * *

Eragon blinked, seeming to process Roran's question slowly. "I… know you," he said slowly, wonderingly. He seemed to be speaking with an innocence Roran had never seen in him before. They had grown up together, but the Rider had never displayed such vulnerability. Nervousness, perhaps, or fear, but not this naive semblance of a child. "Brother?" Roran asked again.

The Eragon blinked. "Er… agon… That's what everyone else called me. Why are you calling me Brother?" Roran shook his head. "Well," he started uncertainly, "we're cousins, but were raised by the same father. So we're brothers. Your name is Eragon. Do you really not remember?" The Rider shook his head, the naivete fading. "No," he replied sadly. Then he backed away.

Roran took a step to follow, but then to his eyes, Eragon's figure seemed to blur before vanishing. Roran sighed. "It's like a god with amnesia," he muttered. "Too powerful for anyone to help." Groaning, he turned to head home, and hopefully contact Nasuada. The whole of Carvahall was monitored more carefully by her than it had in Galbatorix's reign, making this a rather simple task.

* * *

I panted hard, my heart racing. When I had… acknowledged my empty memory out loud, it was as if it had become reality. I was afraid. When he had looked at me pityingly, that Roran, fear had seized my legs. I had run, as far and as fast as I could from that place. The serenity I had felt when I first woke in that lake… it was vanishing, being replaced by panic.


	4. Exhale

She shielded her eyes, looking up at the sun to calculate their position. _It is surprisingly calm today,_ Fírnen remarked. Arya agreed as the dragon shifted, angling down towards the forest. Then suddenly he crowed, shooting into the sky. "Fírnen?" she said in surprise. She looked up, then blinked. The elf queen narrowed her eyes, extending her mental reach to the speck on the horizon.

 _Who are you?_ she demanded. The mental link was too tenuous at such a distance for her to be sure, but she thought there might be something familiar about the presence she sensed. Not that it was always a good thing - but as they drew closer she gasped. It was Saphira - as brilliant as the elf remembered. Her heart rose a little, only to plummet as she glimpsed a bare back.

 _Arya,_ the queen heard. The dragons drew level with one another, hovering on the strong winds. _I have returned._ Arya frowned. _Saphira..?_ she questioned. The dragon bowed her head in acknowledgement. _I am sorry… the courtesy you have taught us… it is difficult for me to recall after so long._ Arya corrected her, _It had only been seven months since we last met - where is Eragon_?

 _Much can happen… in the shortest of times,_ Saphira said. Her voice was sorrowful, causing Arya to be concerned. _What is it? What has happened? Where is Eragon?_ she asked again. The dragon keened softly. She and Fírnen nuzzled before Saphira answered, _I can't… tell you. To put it in words… I can't._ The dragon's tail swung back and forth. _But… I can show you._

Arya stiffened before saying out loud, "Then please, do so." Saphira poured a myriad of images into Arya's mind, causing the elf to cry out in horror.

* * *

"Are you sure that is what Saphira said?" Jörmundur asked. Nasuada nodded. Farica suggested, "Ma'am, I don't think we should make this public." Nasuada nodded again, saying, "Yes, my thoughts exactly." She sighed. "However, I want the two of you to be careful - and keep an ear out, understood?" Each tilted their head in acknowledgement before exiting the room.

Sighing, Nasuada went to her mirror before hesitating. Though she had warned Jörmundur and Farica that Saphira had only said 'gone' and did not necessarily mean dead, she debated whether or not to share this possibility with the one she was about to contact.

She decided to do so - as High Queen, she had no obligation to share such information, and in fact should be in council with this news with those of higher status. However, as a friend, and as one who understood how difficult it was to keep a wide-spread secret, she felt this was the correct thing to do. She approached her mirror, knowing who she required.

To her surprise, the instant the image rippled over the surface she saw Roran entering the building. "Stronghammer," she greeted him. "Your Majesty," he replied. Nasuada began the conversation abruptly, "Saphira has returned." The man blinked, his shock evident. "Ah…" he said slowly. "Actually, I was hoping to speak to you about Eragon. I spoke with him just now."

"Where is he?" Nasuada asked urgently. The man shook his head, causing her disappointment. Her heart plummeted further when Roran said, "It seems he lost his memory. He could be anywhere now." The woman leaned back, her fingers tapping the wood. "When I saw Saphira," she said carefully, "she said he was gone. If what you say is true, perhaps that is what she meant."

"You doubt me?" Roran asked casually. A smirk tugged at Nasuada's lips. "Naturally - else I would not be alive." The two chuckled briefly, before Roran said seriously, "He didn't remember anything. Although… he seemed to recognize me a little. Enough to know my name. But everything else - he was like a blank slate." Nasuada frowned. "That is not good," she muttered.

Roran nodded in agreement. "Not at all," he acknowledged. "As a Rider, though, he was difficult to catch when he left." Nasuada smirked again. "I would imagine," she commented. They shared a laugh once more before they sobered. "She said she was going to speak with Arya," Nasuada added. "Once they finish, I am sure we will learn more." Roran sighed in irritation, turning away.

As the image vanished, Nasuada massaged her temples. She understood his frustration, even as she understood there are some things Saphira simply couldn't tell her. Still, at the moment, the woman was more sympathetic with Roran's impatience.

* * *

Stumbling among thick tree roots, I was lost again. It was dark once more, although I could still see fairly well. My breathing was slowing down - it was hard to be rushed in such a silent night. Though… not that silent. There was firelight and laughter to my right. Curiously I headed that way, breaking through the trees onto a road. Men were sitting around a fire.

I suppose it was difficult for them to see me at the edge of the road, still partially hidden by the brush. One of them spotted me, though, and laughed. "A traveler, eh?" he taunted, standing. The rest, about five total, followed suit. The first leered as he said, "All alone tonight?" I said as politely as I could, "Yes, I am." They laughed out loud at that, drawing knives.

…knives? Alarms went off in my head as they approached me. Slowly I began to back away. "Don't run away," one man said, chuckling. They picked up their pace, grabbing me before I fully comprehended what was going on. One held his knife against my throat. "Now how much money you carrying, and where is it?" another asked. The whole lot was guffawing.

I struggled, tearing free from those holding me. I heard a curse, even as something warm and wet splattered onto me as I took a few steps away. Someone hit me hard on the back of my head. It was difficult to stay conscious. A light flared in my eyes, causing me to close them instinctively. "An elf!" one of them exclaimed. An elf..? I wasn't an elf. I wasn't.

"No wonder! Too bad we didn't get a female, heh heh," someone chuckled. Disoriented as I was, I couldn't keep track of the voices. Pain exploded once more in the back of my head. It couldn't compare to Murtagh's words - nonetheless, I screamed. It drove me into a fury as I tore at the hands holding me. Instead of running, I turned on the men, instinctively destroying them.

When I calmed down, my hands were covered in blood, the remains of the men scattered around me. I stared at them, the shadows and light flickering over the grotesque scene. I sighed. They were gone - they couldn't hurt me anymore. I turned to the food they had had roasting over the fire, absentmindedly wiping my hands on my shirt. I felt the hunger now, after smelling the meat.


	5. Waves

_Eragon,_ I prodded gently. My Rider turned towards me with a smile. "Saphira," he replied sadly. None of the Eldunarí were concerned with us at the moment, allowing us to converse privately. _What is wrong?_ I asked. His feelings had been troubled over the past few days - it had only been a month since we left Alagaësia. He had had bouts of depression before.

I had respected his wish to be left alone during those times, but this was the longest period yet. _Eragon, what's wrong?_ I asked him. He sighed, a sound filled with melancholy. "I… It's been so long since the eggs were found. None of them have hatched." I leaned down, staring at him. _We're not alone,_ I told him. _We still have the EldunarÍ while we wait for that to happen._

He shook his head. "They can't understand us! We _are_ alone." I understood his grief, but if we immersed ourselves in it, we would only be hurt. I tried to cheer him up. _I know. I feel the same way._ My sincerity seemed to help him, a little. _Let's fly. We haven't done it in a while, and I miss flying with you._ I projected the first time we flew in harmony together. He smiled a little.

* * *

Arya inhaled as a second barrage of memories flooded her mind.

* * *

I woke from a dream, feeling uneasy. Slowly I lifted my head, blinking away sleep. I found my side empty. Reaching out, I sensed my Rider sitting high on a pillar. I recalled he had learned his True Name there. Slowly I roused myself fully, crawling out from the cave we slept in to stretch my wings. I flew over to him, landing below his perch since the pillar was too small to share.

"Saphira," he acknowledged me. His thoughts weren't sad, but they echoed in a way that reinforced my uneasiness. _What are you doing?_ I asked. My Rider swung his legs. "My True Name… I learned how to change it." I tilted my head, an ominous feeling growing in my heart of hearts. _How?_ I said. "By using the Name of Names," he said excitedly, looking down at me.

He sounded eager as he said, "I was experimenting, and I discovered I am able to change my True Name." He leapt down easily, using the niches of the aged pillar as handholds to climb down to me. He told me his new True Name through our mind link. I refrained from pulling back, but I couldn't resist asking, _Why would you want to change your True Name?_

Eragon shrugged. "I only changed one word," he said, laughing. I watched him uneasily. I knew which part he had altered - the part that longed for home. The part of him that longed for human contact, for being surrounded by friends and family. Instead, that part was gone. He simply erased it. _Be careful,_ I warned him. _Maybe you should return it to the way it had been before._

I felt irritation emanate from Eragon. "I'll be fine," he replied. "Come on, let's fly a little." He climbed onto my saddle. I shook myself, but he held on. "What's wrong?" he asked. _Be careful,_ I repeated. His voice carried a tinge of guilt as he said, "Sorry. I will, Saphira." Satisfied, I raised my wings before pushing them down, launching us into the air. He whooped as we flew higher.

* * *

As they faded, Saphira sent another series of memories into Arya.

* * *

 _Eragon? Eragon? Eragon!_ I flew high, trying to catch a glimpse of my Rider. I could sense his shame and guilt, as well as an overwhelming presence that I didn't understand. I felt for him, reaching for him. Quickly I dove down, determined to find him. I landed before Eragon as he skidded to a stop, eyes wide. His breathing was ragged as I lowered my gaze to his own.

 _Eragon,_ I said firmly. Only moments before it felt as if the world had shifted - with my Rider at the center. I sensed his shame battling with that anger-ridden presence. "The Name… it's… changed," he said, straining. "It… I… it was him." _Who? What happened?_ I asked, leaning forward. Eragon curled his lip. "That idiot! He just wants -" He cut himself off, coughing.

"Tell… Arya… a Name can… only be changed if it's known. Please, we need… to tell… her." I crouched down as he scrambled onto his back. As we soared into the air, I wondered about his shame. I brushed against his mind, searching. Something… about the Eldunarí. _What happened?_ I asked sharply, as we began crossing the ocean. We made good time with a strong tailwind.

Eragon was silent, holding on. Then he muttered, "Please hurry." I complied, flapping harder. It was silent, the entire way across the ocean. We crossed over land. I angled towards Du Weldenvarden, crossing over the Spine. I felt a burst of sorrow as we passed just out of sight where his cousin was rebuilding Carvahall. Then the sorrow seemed to give the alien presence the upper hand.

The presence leapt out, engulfing his mind. _Eragon!_ I cried. I twisted around to look back. His expression was blank as his hands loosened. Then he fell. Afraid, I flew down to catch him. A spell erected a barrier before me, though. No matter how I scratched and clawed, it held. My Rider's body fell into the lake below with a splash. I roared, trying to reach him. I joined my mind with his, but too late - my fear of his changes in personality would now cost me my Rider. He was drowning.


	6. Drowning

_Eragon!_ I cried. His body has sunk, not coming to the surface. The spell held strong as I fought to reach him. Then suddenly, a hooded figure emerged from the trees, raising a hand. Eragon's body rose to the surface, drifting to rest in the shallows. The figure knelt over his body, resting a hand on my Rider's shoulder. I growled loudly, fighting harder than ever.

The figure looked up. Their face was hidden in shadow, but I caught a glimpse of their mouth forming a familiar word. A familiar Name. I roared louder, desperate, but to no avail. I could no longer sense my Rider lying right before me, and rays of light pierced my wing, causing to fall and be unable to reach him physically. I groaned, struggling to do something. Anything.

* * *

Arya gasped, back in the present. Tears flowed from her eyes. "Oh, Eragon," she whispered, before regaining her composure. "Is that all you know?" Saphira inclined her head sorrowfully. _It is,_ the dragon told her. Arya sighed. "That is why neither Murtagh nor Thorn could sense or communicate with him… mentally. But how is that possible?" Saphira huffed.

 _It is not only dragons who can perform miracles,_ she reminded Arya. _But tell me, when did you meet Murtagh?_ The elf laughed. "I suppose not. Murtagh, we crossed paths as he was traveling to Urû'baen. He also told me that Eragon reacted violently when he tried to convince Eragon he meant no harm in the ancient language." Fírnen reared his head back curiously. _Why?_ he inquired.

Arya thought hard on it. "I don't know for sure," she admitted. "We don't know who that hooded figure, what spells might have been cast on Eragon… and what the effects of changing his True Name might do. He said a Name can only be changed if it's known?" Saphira bobbed her head. The elf queen sighed. "I need to return to my duties. We need to keep this private."

 _I agree,_ Saphira said. Her voice was tinged with sadness as she said, _please help us with that. I will… speak to Nasuada._ Saphira eyed the elf hard. _Keep it secret,_ she sent, before wheeling away. Arya and Fírnen watched her shrink into the distance.

* * *

"Ugh," Murtagh groaned. He slumped down against Thorn. "First Eragon, then Arya, and now we're lost." Thorn huffed into his hair. _It is not my fault you are unable to heal my wound._ Murtagh frowned. "Okay," he relented, "but it's not mine, either. Whatever he did… for some reason, I really am having difficulty with your injuries. I'm surprised you could fly away with me then."

He was referring to when he and Thorn had met with Eragon in the forest. The shockwave had drained Murtagh of energy protecting himself, while his dragon had been clipped by the energy. When they met Arya, the elf had been between political meetings, unable to help them significantly. Murtagh sighed. "Things change with time," he said wistfully.

Thorn nudged him. _Look over there - what is that?_ Murtagh looked up. "Smoke," he said without enthusiasm. "Maybe friendlies… if not, maybe I'll get to vent a little steam." The pair made their way to the smoke, peering through the branches to see a fire.

And a massacre. "What happened here?" Murtagh said, disgusted at the sight of torn limbs and blood. Lots of blood. The ashes of a fire lay in the middle of the road, smoke still rising from them. The Rider knelt near one man, examining a hand that clutched a knife. It caught his attention by how clean it was. _He never had a chance,_ Thorn commented.

Murtagh shook his head. "No he didn't," he said musingly. "What did this? No man, for there none of these wounds match any weapons. No elf, for their work would be far cleaner than this… I believe the Kull and Urgals will keep their word on the truce…"

They stared at the scene for a while, silent as they tried to make sense of it.

* * *

It was cold and dry and quiet when I opened my eyes to the dappled patterns of light and shadow. My cheek was pressed against the fallen leaves littering the ground of the forest. Slowly I stood, feeling well-rested. Despite all this, panic was slowly working it's way into me once more. Breathing as calmly as I could, I placed a hand on the warm bark of a nearby tree.

Then I heard a voice - one that I recognized. This elated me for a brief moment, until I realized it was recognition from after the moment I'd woken at the waterfall. The voice belonged to Murtagh. I made my way towards him, stopping just shy of stepping out of the trees. He and Thorn were staring at the dead men. Fear sparked within me as I watched them.

* * *

"Are those your friends?" Murtagh looked up to see Eragon standing just within the treeline, poised - whether to run or pounce, Murtagh wasn't certain. It was the Rider's voice that startled Murtagh, though. Cold, yet hesitant. Murtagh replied as calmly as he could, "No… do you know them?" To his surprise, Eragon seemed relieved, relaxing and walking closer.

The Rider responded, "Not really. You are Murtagh and Thorn, right?" Murtagh nodded. He eyed Eragon warily as the Rider came even closer. Without seeming to notice, Eragon was treading lightly, weaving through the pools of blood. When Eragon came within three arm-lengths Murtagh asked, "Did you kill them?" Eragon paused, his posture tensing once more.

"...I did." Murtagh now understood why he had not been able to identify who killed the men. Eragon carried no weapons, and he had sensed no magic on the men's wounds. The Rider must have torn them apart with his bare hands. Refraining from grimacing at the image that thought conjured up, Murtagh held up his hands. He asked plainly, "Why?"

* * *

Murtagh's question made me uneasy. I thought it was simple. They were threats, so I killed them. However… this person's words, though spoken neutrally, felt as if they were accusing me. That wasn't fair. "They tried to hurt me," I answered him. Murtagh looked confused as he asked, "But surely you only had to knock them out, or outrun them, right?"

I hesitated. Now that he said such things, I knew them to be true. But last night, I had been terrified. Before I could stop myself I retorted, "They deserved it."

* * *

 _This is not how I remembered him being,_ Thorn commented. Murtagh silently agreed. The Eragon before them was - literally a blank slate. And freaked out. Murtagh cautiously smiled, holding up his hands. "I guess they did," he said softly, deciding to do his best not to scare Eragon off. _Perhaps we could bring him back,_ Thorn suggested. _And not tell anyone about this,_ Murtagh added.


End file.
